Valentine (5 page)

“No, it’s most vexing, I agree,” Elinor said. “But Theo doesn’t bend easily, to my will or anyone else’s. However, you’ll meet her shortly. You’ll find her knowledge of the estate useful to you. She knows more than the bailiff about most matters and has had the management of the estate in her hands since she was seventeen. My father-in-law trusted her judgment implicitly.”

“An unusual young woman.” Sylvester contented himself with the dry comment.

Elinor smiled. “Something of an understatement, Lord Stoneridge.”

“Why is she called Theo?” he asked abruptly. “Thea, I would expect. But Theo is a boy’s name.”

“She was always an intrepid child, much more interested in a boy’s pursuits. Her father always called her Theo … the son he never had.”

A strong-willed, managing, tomboy hoyden! Dear God, what was he getting himself into?

“I can’t wait to meet her,” he murmured.

“Has he gone?” Theo stuck her head round the corner of the door, keeping the rest of her on the terrace.

“No, he’s with Mama,” Emily said. “You really are too bad, Theo. Mama is so vexed that you weren’t here.”

“He’s very toplofty,” Clarissa said. “He looks as if there’s a permanent bad smell under his nose.” She offered an imitation of the earl, wrinkling her small nose.

Theo chuckled. “Well, I think I’ll go back to the stables until he leaves.”

“You will not.” Emily moved with surprising speed for such a decorous young woman. She caught her sister’s wrist and pulled her into the drawing room. They were engaged in a spirited tussle when the hall door opened to admit their mother and the Earl of Stoneridge.

“Emily … Theo!” Lady Belmont exclaimed.

Emily flushed, dropping her sister’s wrist. Theo, who was still laughing, turned toward the door, an apology on her lips.

But both laughter and apology died. “You!” She formed the word without speaking it as she stared at the tall figure of Sylvester Gilbraith behind her mother.

“Well … well …,” Sylvester murmured, advancing into the room. “I believe you must be my missing cousin, Lady Theodora.” He bowed, mockery glittering in his eyes. “What a surprise. You’re quite an actress, cousin.”

Theo ignored his outstretched hand. “And you are no gentleman, sir. But I would hardly have expected anything else from a Gilbraith.”

Sylvester drew a sharp breath, but Elinor spoke before he could respond. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Theo, but your rudeness is inexcusable. Lord Stoneridge is our guest—”

“Hardly that, Mama,” Theo broke in, her face white with anger, her eyes blue-black. “I believe we are Lord Stoneridge’s guests. If you’ll excuse me, I have pressing business elsewhere.” She spun on her heel, brushing past Sylvester, dusting off her sleeve where it had touched him, an expression of acute distaste on her face.

“Theo!” Elinor took a step forward, but Sylvester held up a hand.

“I think this is mine to deal with, ma’am,” he said, tight-lipped, two spots of color burning on his cheekbones.

Elinor hesitated; then she made a tiny gesture of acknowledgment, and Lord Stoneridge strode out of the drawing room in pursuit of his cousin.

“What’s going on?” Bewildered, Clarissa looked after his lordship. “Have they already met?”

“It would seem so,” Elinor said, calmly taking up her embroidery.

“But … but Theo never said.” Emily ran to the window, looking anxiously across the lawn as if expecting to see a scene of violent mayhem. “How could you let him go after her, Mama? He looked ready to murder her.”

“I could cheerfully wring her neck myself,” Elinor responded. “I am strongly of the opinion that your sister and Sylvester Gilbraith will be very good for each other.”

“What do you mean?”

Elinor smiled, threading her needle with a crimson thread. “His lordship had a proposition to put to me….”

Theo had reached the first landing when Sylvester caught up with her. She turned at bay, her stance apparently relaxed, but he could read her readiness in every muscle.

“You wish to take inventory of the bedrooms, my lord. Don’t let me stand in your way,” she said through her teeth.

“You’re not in my way in the least,” he replied, his anger as high and as visible in eye and mouth as Theo’s. He moved toward her.

She shifted her stance, her hands hanging loose at her sides, her eyes fixed on his face.

“You won’t manage it twice, gypsy,” he said quietly. “This time I’m ready for you.”

“You take one step closer, my lord, and you’ll go down those stairs on your back,” she said as softly as he. “And with any luck you’ll break your neck in the process.”

He shook his head. “I don’t deny your skill, but mine is as
good, and I have the advantage of size and strength.” He saw the acknowledgment leap into her eyes, but her position didn’t change.

“Let’s have done with this,” he said sharply. “I’m prepared to forget that silly business by the stream.”

“Oh, are you, my lord? How very generous of you. As I recall, you were not the one insulted.”

“As I recall, you, cousin, were making game of me. Now, come downstairs. I wish you to ride around the estate with me.”

“You wish me to do
what?”
Theo stared at him, her eyes incredulous.

“I understand from your mother that you’ve had the management of the estate for the last three years,” he said impatiently, as if his request were the most natural imaginable. “You’re clearly the obvious person to show me around.”

“You have windmills in your head, sir. I wouldn’t give you the time of day!” Theo swung on her heel and made to continue up the stairs.

“You rag-mannered hoyden!” Sylvester exclaimed. “We may have started on the wrong foot, but there’s no excuse for such incivility.” He sprang after her, catching her around the waist.

She spun, one leg flashing in a high kick aimed at his chest, but as he’d warned her, this time he was ready for her. Twisting, he caught her body across his thighs, swinging a leg over hers, clamping them in a scissor grip between his knees.

“Now, yield!” he gritted through his teeth, adjusting his grip against the sinuous working of her muscles as she fought to free herself.

Theo went suddenly still, her body limp against him. Instinctively, he relaxed his grip and the next instant she was free, bounding up the next flight of stairs.

Sylvester went after her, no longer capable of cool reasoning. A primitive battle was raging, and he knew only that he
wasn’t going to lose it. No matter that it was undignified and totally inappropriate.

Theo raced down the long corridor, hearing his booted feet pounding behind her in time with her thundering heart. She didn’t know whether her heart was speeding with fear or exhilaration; she didn’t seem capable of rational, coherent thought.

His breath was on the back of her neck as she wrenched open the door of her bedroom and leaped inside, but his foot went in the gap as she tried to slam the door shut. She leaned on the door with all her weight, but Sylvester put his shoulder against the outside and heaved. Theo went reeling into the room and the door swung wide.

Sylvester stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him. He glanced around. It was a pretty bedroom, redolent of girlhood from the delicate dimity hangings to the china doll on the window seat.

Theo backed away, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it. For some reason he seemed a lot bigger than before. Perhaps it was because he was towering over the dainty familiarity of her childhood bedroom. With a nasty jolt she recognized that she had been unpardonably rude. Even in the light of his provocation, she’d gone above and beyond what was forgivable.

“Very well,” she said breathlessly. “If you wish it, I’ll apologize for being uncivil. I shouldn’t have said what I did just now.”

“For once we’re in agreement,” he remarked, coming toward her. Theo cast a wild look around the room. In a minute she was going to be backed up against the armoire, and she didn’t have too many tricks left in the bag.

Sylvester reached out and seized the long thick rope of hair hanging down her back. He twisted it around his wrist, reeling her in like a fish until her face was on a level with his shoulder.

He examined her countenance as if he were seeing it for
the first time. Her eyes had darkened, and he could read the sparkling challenge in their depths; the flush of exertion and emotion lay beneath the golden brown of her complexion, and her lips were slightly parted as if she were about to launch into another of her tirades.

To prevent such a thing, he tightened his grip on her plait, bringing her face hard against his shoulder, and kissed her.

Theo gasped against his mouth, her body stiffening in preparation for a struggle.

He raised his head; a finger of his free hand stroked her eyelids closed, and his mouth returned to hers.

Theo was so startled that she forgot about resistance for a split second and in that second discovered that she was enjoying the sensation. Her lips parted beneath the probing thrust of his tongue, and her own tongue touched his, at first tentatively, then with increasing confidence. She inhaled the scent of his skin, a sun-warmed earthy scent that was new to her, and his mouth tasted of wine. His body was hard-muscled against her own, and when she stirred slightly, she became startlingly aware of a stiffness in his loins. Instinctively, she pressed her lower body against his.

Sylvester drew back abruptly, his eyes hooded as he looked down into her intent face. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “How many men have you kissed, gypsy?”

“None,” she said truthfully. She’d kissed Edward several times, but those exploratory embraces bore no relation to what had just happened. Her anger had vanished completely, surprise and curiosity in its place. She wasn’t even sure whether she still disliked him.

“I’ll be damned,” he said again, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, little glints of amusement sparkling in the gray eyes. “I doubt you’ll be a restful wife, cousin, but I’ll lay odds you’ll be full of surprises.”

Theo remembered that she
did
dislike him—intensely. She twitched her plait out of his slackened grip and stepped
back. “I fail to see what business that is of yours, Lord Stoneridge.”

“Ah, yes, I was forgetting we haven’t discussed this as yet,” he said, folding his arms, regarding her with deepening amusement. “We’re going to be married, you and I.”

“M
ARRIED?
” T
HEO STARED
at him, convinced he’d taken leave of whatever senses a Gilbraith could possess.

“Yes, I have your mother’s permission to address you,” he said with a smile that struck Theo as demented.

“My mother?” She shook her head. “My dear sir, you are in need of a physician … or Bedlam,” she couldn’t help adding. She moved to walk past him to the door.

He laid a restraining hand on her arm. “Hear me out, cousin.”

“I have no wish to listen to the ramblings of a lunatic,” she declared. “I suggest—”

The suggestion was stillborn as she found herself swinging through the air to land with a jarring thump on a chair in the corner of the room. Lord Stoneridge leaned over her, his hands braced on the walls on either side of her head. His face was very close to hers.

“Now do I have your attention, cousin?” he demanded with deceptive mildness. Sensing an almost imperceptible shift of her leg, he continued in the same tone, “If you’re
thinking of bringing your knee into play, I most earnestly recommend that you reconsider.”

Theo, who had been thinking of doing just that, reconsidered.

“Do I have your attention, cousin?”

“I appear to have little choice but to listen to your raving,” she said tartly, wishing she could move back, away from a disturbing proximity that confusingly seemed to embody both menace and promise.

Sylvester straightened and ran a hand through his crisp dark hair, disheveling the close-cropped cut. “We’re going to have to deal better than this,” he said in some frustration. “We can’t always be manhandling each other.”

Theo closed her eyes, forcing herself into stillness. If she didn’t react, he would go away and this crazy nightmare would fade. But he was talking, telling her that the only equitable solution to the entail was for him to marry a Belmont. Her mother would no longer have to worry about finding dowries for all her daughters, since he would provide them from the estate. Lady Belmont would remove to the dower house, but she’d still have close contact with the manor. And Theo herself … well, she could judge her advantages for herself.

Advantages!
She opened her eyes once his even tones had ceased. “I wouldn’t marry a Gilbraith if he was the last man on earth,” she stated, standing up now that he’d moved far enough away to allow her to do so.

“That’s history,” he said. “It has nothing to do with us … with any of us, anymore. Can’t you see I’m trying to rise above a quarrel that happened in the mists of time?”

“Perhaps.” She shrugged and went to the door. “Maybe I should have said I wouldn’t marry
you
, cousin, if you were the last man on earth.”

She left, leaving Sylvester staring into empty space. His hands were tightly clenched, and slowly he opened them, flexing his fingers. He was not going to be routed by an insolent
baggage fifteen years his junior. Not while he had breath in his body.